Speak To Me
by YourWorldLeader
Summary: When Trevor finds Michael after Franklin's horrible deed, he can't comprehend What has happened... things will get... bloody. (Spoilers to one of the endings of GTA V)
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own anything. and there are SPOILERS to one of the endings of the game! R&R

Trevor was in a panic. Though the man never so much as flinched while in the face of death, his blood ran cold. The call from that traitor Franklin left him shrouded in dread. His only two friends were about to face off in a battle of life and death. Youth versus experience. Friend versus friend.

Whatever caused Franklin to turn on his mentor didn't matter to Trevor. Franklin's true colors were revealed, the cause was of no importance. A thought occurred to the balding man, "Let those two back stabbing assholes kill each other." The thought left his mind as abruptly as it had entered. To think such things would only fuel the treachery between the three men. That only sickened him more.

Trevor slammed his phone down with amazing force for a man as seemingly scrawny as he was. He had to stop this. He would do everything in his power. His mind had to be clear and precise if he were to fix this. Trevor picked up his phone and tried to call Michael but only got his answering machine. He tried once more and it was no good. Trevor was running out of time. It became clear to him what he had to do. He dialed the man he knew he could always depend on.

"Lester," Trevor's voice pleaded. "I need to find Michael. Right now, and I mean it." Lester always had something up his sleeve. Always had some miracle solution for their problems. The other end of the phone was silent for a time. Trevor had to do something. He whispered something that he didn't even know was in his vocabulary. "Please."

"Alright," Lester's voice trailed off in thought. "Well, you could use Trackify, it's a tracking device we've already used to find Michael when... well, you know. Anyway, I'll set it up on your phone to find Michael's signal."

Trevor hoped that Michael would have his phone on him and was just ignoring his calls. He didn't know what he would do if he found Michael's phone and no Michael. He put the thought out of his mind and focused on doing what he could. Trevor surprised even himself when he said yet more words he didn't know was in his vocabulary. "Thank you," and he sincerely ment them. Without waiting for a reply from Lester he hung up.

Embarrassed, and at the same time, desperate to be with the man he loved. Wait, no. Did he just think that? He couldn't have. Trevor couldn't love that man. He didn't want him to die but... He did threaten to kill that backstabbing murderer. But deep inside he knew he never would. As much as Trevor threatened to kill the man it was only empty threats. The way a married couple got into arguments and promised to find a better partner.

Trevor pushed it from his mind and raced to his truck. He had to find Michael.

Franklin had completed his goal. He had killed Michael after racing to the top of the tower. They both fought hard for their lifes. But in the end it was Franklin who had won. Michael's body lay lifeless at the bottom of the construction site. The warmth leaving his body with each passing minute.

As Trevor raced up to the construction site, he had a horrible sense of dread pass over him. He had no doubt now that he would find Michael, but didn't know if he'd be alive or dead. The latter seemed more likely the longer he took to get to his best friend.

He braked hard and swerved to the left, almost hitting a support beam. He needed to focus on finding Michael, not letting his fear get to him and cloud his mind. The blip on the radar told him Michael was desperately close. Trevor parked the truck and got out. There was no sign of Michael as he surveyed the area.

He dropped to his knees and a tear fell from his face. He was too late. He didn't see a body but he knew it in his heart. As Trevor struggled to get off his knees it was then that he found Michael.

In all his life Trevor couldn't remember a time when he had run faster. Even when he was running from the police, hillbillies, bikers, cartels, hired thugs and countless other men who had wanted him dead. This was bigger than himself. This was his best friend.

Trevor held up Michael's head, speechless. Michael was cold. He had been there for hours. Franklin would have been gone by now. That's just as well. Trevor didn't have it in him to take revenge. He could barely make himself stay upright. His heart felt like it would tear apart with sorrow.

He put Michael's head down and did something he hadn't done since he as a boy, being abused by his mother. He lay on the floor in the fetal position and erased his mind. He didn't think of anything, he went to a quiet reserved place in his mind. He was asleep in minutes.

When Trevor woke up he felt just like the scared little boy he had been so many years ago. He was still with fear, afraid to see his mother above him, waiting to scold him for not loving her enough. But when no words came he opened up his mind and took in his surroundings. He was clinging to something. It wasn't unusual for Trevor to be holding on to something when he awoke from a particularly painful bout of abuse from his mother, whether it be mental of physical. But this time it was different.

He finally opened his eyes and seen he was holding on to a very fat man. Then realization hit him. It was Michael. Trevor got up without missing a beat and knew he had to get out of there. Not because he was afraid of any confrontation, but because he didn't want to be near the dead man. Not that sleeping near dead men was revolting to him, but because Michael reminded him of Brad's face looking out from Michael's coffin.

Trevor ran to his truck and got in as fast as he could. He started up the truck and was about to leave it all behind when he just stopped. When he left Michael for dead the last time, Michael hadn't really been dead at all. He was alive. Which meant this time he was obviously playing him for a fool AGAIN.

Not again.

Trevor turned of his truck with a sly twist of his wrist. He knew what Michael was doing. He got out and strut over to his "best friend's" broken body.

"Wellllllllll, hello buddy. You don't look so good. Aww. What's wrong? You dead? Naw, you just WANT TO ABANDON ME AGAIN. But joke's on you. It. Won't. Work." Trevor let out a laugh that would chill even the bones of the already cold dead man that was the object of his rage. "Since you are dead," Trevor said sarcastically, "you won't mind at all if I take you for a little ride with me."

With that, Trevor picked up his dead friend's body and threw him in the back of his truck and drove away.


	2. Chapter 2

In what seemed to be no time at all, Trevor and Michael arrived at Trevor's trailer.

"I know it isn't what _you_ would call a 'decent place to live', but it's home. I hope it doesn't offend someone so high and mighty as yourself," Trevor said with a sneer. "If it does, well, that's too bad. After all you are a dead man." Trevor let out a chuckle and picked up Michael's corpse bridal style and brought him into his home.

Trevor laid the fat man on his bed and made for the kitchen. Just as he was about to cross the door into his small kitchen Trevor turned around with a jolt and screamed at Michael, expecting some kind of reaction. When he got none he scratched his jaw and went to get two beers from the fridge.

"Hey, Michael. You can keep playing this game for as long as you like but you won't fool me. But as long as you're here, well, have a beer." When Michael didn't take the beer Trevor shrugged it off and drank both.

With a belch, Trevor went for another beer. He was displeased when he found there was only one left. "RON, GET OVER HERE," Trevor yelled.

Ron, knowing better than to test Trevor's good will ran straight over to the neighboring trailor.

"Yes, Trevor?"

"Ron, can you come look at something for me?"

"S-Sure Trevor"

Trevor led Ron over to the fridge and watched him inspect it.

"Do you see anything wrong with this picture?"

"Uhhhhhh... there's mold and something that looks suspiciously like a rotting human arm in there?"

"Noooooo, there's no beer, Ronald."

"Sorry, Trevor. I'll go straight to the store and get some. Just please, don't hurt me." Ron backed away from his "friend" and turned to leave when he saw a man on the bed. "Uhhh, Trevor. Is that a dead man?"

"Here that, Michael? You're good. You can fool Ron, but you can't fool me. Now GO Ron, I don't want to see you back here unless you have two six packs in your arms. Or else."

"Yes, Trevor"

When Ron was gone it was only Trevor and Michael. "I'll show you a dead man, Michael," Trevor whispered to himself. He brought out his special bag, reserved for his most special victims. The contents were also special. With exaggerated care, Trevor took out a bone saw, scalpel, and an assortment of other deadly looking tools.

"Where oh where should I start. I know." Trevor used some shears to cut away Michael's shirt. "Man, you need to lay off the Taco Bomb. That really can't be good for your health."

Trevor picked up a scalpel with malicious intent and held before Michael's face. "Last chance to speak up. Any takers? No? Alright then."

What happened next was what could only be described as horrific. Trevor had managed to soak his bed with a significant amount of blood within the first hour of his bloody surgery. Within the first hour he had peeled the skin off of Michael in long one inch strips. It took quite a while for him to accomplish this task, in some places it was easy because the skin was thicker, but in others the skin was thinner and could easily be torn. That would not do at all. Trevor had the neat pieces of skin hanging on hangers in his small closet. Funny, Trevor thought to himself, how the skin was the biggest organ of the human body, but he was able to fit them all in his closet without so much as a single piece overlapping another. :)

Michael's bloody carcass lay on the mattress, waiting for the next step of Trevor's butchering. The muscles in his body were overcome by fatty tissue in some places. Trevor held Michael's skinless face in his hands, admiring his work. He stared into Michael's lidless eyes and whispered, "You are my best friend, M. You can stop playing now. Talk to me." When no words came out of the corpse yet again, Trevor growled in anger. "I'VE TRIED TO BE NICE MICHAEL. You made me do this. It's your fault. You had this coming to you the day you got Brad killed. I'm done trying to convince you." Trevor held his own face in both hands out of frustration, smearing it with blood. He was done with trying to convince Michael to talk to him. Now he would be focused on his grisly task. He changed into his most precious dress just for the occasion.

The fat layering Michael's body displeased Trevor. So he removed it. It wasn't at all as easy as it seemed in Trevor's mind. The fat would slip out of Trevor's hands and he couldn't get a good grip most of the time so he had to take it slow so none of the muscle underneath would be damaged. He resorted to delicately scraping it off with his scalpel. His stomach, legs, arms, chin, and back were covered in the fat so it was a hard two hours of work.

When all the work was done Trevor gathered all the fat and put it in a large metal pot. He then set it on his stove and set it on low. Trevor made a mental note to himself to stir it occasionally so it wouldn't burn. He would have use of this later and it'd be no good it it were burned.

Trevor ran his hand over Michael's now flawless leg muscles. There wasn't much blood leaking from the body. It was mostly coagulated and jelly-like. As he inspected his work, to his displeasure, Trevor realized that Michael's left eyeball had collapsed into his skull. Trevor poked it with a finger and grunted. His plan was to remove the jelly from both eyes with a small needle then fill them with cement. They were to be Trevor's new stress balls, but now those plans were ruined. The dent in the left eye had left a crease in the cornea and (white part). Normally Trevor wouldn't care about a little damage to his possessions, but this was different, Michael's eyes were special and not to be ruined. Now he'd probably have to cut the eyes akin to how one would transfer a globe of earth to a flat map. He'd get them laminated and keep them nice and fresh.

Next Trevor split the muscles one by one by running a finger over the creases between them. When they were all good and separated, Trevor sliced each and every muscle just below the ligaments holding them in place. It created pleasing steak-like sections of meat. It was dirty business, but it would be worth the effort in the end. Trevor would feed this special meat to the people in Sandy Shores, maybe. Or maybe he'd take a trip to a puppy shelter and watch them chow down on Michael. Maybe Trevor would chow down on the puppies. The thought pleased him and he let out a hardy laugh.

The putrid smell of dead body was pungent through the whole trailer. Trevor's boiled fat was done. He left the room where what was left of Michael's body was and went to turn off the stove. HIs hands left bloody stains on the knob but Trevor didn't notice. Trevor got a cold beer out of the fridge, looks like Ron was here. Trevor hadn't even heard the tiny man come in. It must have been hours ago because Trevor was starving. Well, it was no use working on an empty stomach. With a joyful look on his face, the man got up and walked into the room where Michael lay. There was a special muscle Trevor was looking for. One of a kind, and absolutely delicious. This muscle wouldn't go to any puppies or hicks, Trevor would do the honors himself. When he had located it, he flopped it into his liquid fat, pulled it out, and fried it on low. The fat would bring out the flavor, and slow cooking it would make sure it was nice and juicy with a delicious texture on the outside. Trevor could hardly contain himself, he was impatient to get back to work, so he ate the muscle half raw. It was still delicious.

With all the muscle removed, Michael's body was a ghastly sight. Intestine spilled over on Michael's left side and his internal organs were all visible. the corpse had no eyes and still had cartilage latched on to some parts of the skull. Though Trevor was careful in his work, there was still shreds of muscle hanging from the spine and places around his body.

"I bet you regret trying to deceive your best friend now, eh, buddy," Trevor said with his eyes closed, not expecting a reply. Michael would not talk back because he was hell bent on trying to trick his friend. That was alright, Trevor was use to his silent treatment.

Trevor pulled out a bone saw for his next task but thought better of it. Instead of cutting through the ribcage he would break the bones with his hands one by one. As he did so, one at a time the bone would make a blood-chilling crack. It almost sounded like the shattering of hot glass when it touches something too cold, but louder. With each rib removed, Trevor had gotten closer to Michael's heart. Michael's filthy, betraying heart. Wasting no time, Trevor ripped Michael's heart right out of his chest. The aorta came out mostly intact, but the other tubes weren't as lucky. He held the heart in his hand and thought it was wondrous how the human heart fit so perfectly in the human hand. Trevor squeezed it a little and some clotted blood came out. With a little more effort, some more blood came out, it was a little warm and less clotted. Trevor stuck a finger through a hole and felt around. The spider web-like structures inside tickled his finger. When he pulled his finger out, it was covered in yet more blood.

"I'd say you were pulling on my heart strings, buddy, but I'm obviously pulling on yours," He laughed at his pun and inspected his friend's body. He did a pretty damn good job.

Trevor took out a little box and a knife from his special bag and Michael's heart into the light outside his trailer. A couple outside passed by and saw him standing there. Trevor was bloody from head to toe, his dress was stained and his hair was matted. The couple didn't know whether to laugh at his dress or run away from the deranged man holding what seemed to be a human heart. They did the smart thing and ran for their lives. Trevor didn't notice the couple though, he was busy inspecting his new trophy.

Trevor attempted to smile sweetly, but the expression that came to his face looked more like he was about to sneeze. He took off his dress and was left in his underwear. Trevor cut open his chest down his middle, about halfway down his sternum. When he had two good flaps of skin free the exposed man took a surgical grade needle and thread out of the box and began sewing Michael's heart into the wound. They would now be one.

Trevael entered their trailer and closed the door. The place smelled like a slaughterhouse but they didn't care. They were one. Trevael picked up the pot of fat and brought it into their bedroom. They through the strips of skin into the pot and got them all good and soaked. Then Trevael jumped on to the bed and laid inside the corpse. It was a tight fit, but together they fit their body into the ribcage, ripping the diaphragm and squishing the organs that got in the way. Trevael's head and body parts matched up with the dead man's and they were also one.

At long last Trevael poured the skin strips and fat all over their body. The fat wasn't hot enough to scorch the skin off their body but it was warm enough to be poured easily over everything. When the pot was emptied, Trevael grabbed a skin and layed it over their eyes and fell asleep.

And they slept as one.


End file.
